here in my arms
by 100thAngel
Summary: It wasn't like he was concealing his true thoughts; he wasn't casting an invisible veil over the world, this wasn't a magic trick, but some things like feelings and emotions seemed too personal to share sometimes. Because when he felt, it was so deeply, so crippling and intense that he swore he was swimming up a waterfall or lifting a boulder above his head.


**Title:** here in my arms

 **Author:** 100thAngel

 **Pairing:** Viktuuri

 **Summary:** It wasn't like he was concealing his true thoughts; he wasn't casting an invisible veil over the world, this wasn't a magic trick, but some things like _feelings_ and _emotions_ seemed too personal to share sometimes. Because when he _felt,_ it was so deeply, so crippling and intense that he swore he was swimming up a waterfall or lifting a boulder above his head.

 **Disclaimer:** Yuri! on Ice belongs to Mitsurō Kubo and MAPPA studio. I do not make a profit from writing this.

 **Date of publication:** 12/11/16

 **A/N:** You know what I hate? Getting out of bed in the morning. Which consequently inspired this shit. And let me tell ya, it got completely out of hand.

* * *

† **here in my arms** **†**

Feelings of anxiety, apprehension, or nervousness never bothered him. He hardly even felt them. And they had certainly never had him waking up in the middle of the night. Back when he was competing, he always managed to sleep through the night, waking refreshed and readying to win. Yet today, he found himself waking in the early hours of the morning on the first day of the Grand Prix Final.

The first thing he noticed was that his body was tense, locked in a fetal position. He kicked his legs out only to shiver when his feet discovered the cold space at the end of his mattress and curled back into a ball. It was uncomfortable, his body protesting. He straightened his legs again, stretching them out as far as they could go as he turned over onto his other side.

He still hadn't opened his eyes, hoping to simply fall back asleep. He did, for about twenty minutes before shifting again.

It was cold despite the heavy duvet. He tried pitching the comforter over his head, burying his face into the pillow then lifting it again ten seconds later in need of air.

 _What's going on?_ he asked himself tiredly. He made one last ditch effort to fall back asleep by pushing the pillow under his chest and face-planting the mattress.

When, after several minutes of nothing happening, his brain waking more and more with each second that past, he simply gave up, tossing the blankets aside and sitting up. He was instantly greeted by the cold and cursed his misfortune.

His hands immediately came up to grab at his arms, shivering and sneezing.

Then he noted the soft snores filling the silence of the room. He briefly forgot where he was and what he was doing there, wondering if he was back home with some woman in his bed, but one look at the other occupant had him recalling everything.

"Yuuri," he spoke with understanding, with need and desire as his body instinctively inched closer to the man until he was crawling on his hands and knees, crossing the small gap between their two beds. He stalled when he was hovering over the form of his student, not exactly sure what to do, not even sure precisely what he wanted.

He knew he wanted to escape the cold but it was far more complex than simply using the other as a heat source. "Yuuri," he called again, louder this time like he was asking Yuuri why he couldn't sleep, why he felt so uncomfortable in his own bed, why he was seeking a companion, why he just wanted Yuuri back in his embrace. Of course, his only answer was another snore.

"You even snore like a pig, my little _porosenok_ ," the man chuckled. He'd never thought pigs could be so adorable until he met Yuuri.

But while half his brain was still fawning over the cuteness of his student, the other half was demanding he do something to chase away the chill in the room.

He brought his hand to the man's shoulder, shaking him lightly. "Yuuri, wake up. I'm cold." Yuuri groaned but didn't wake. The man tried again by resorting to light-hearted threats, "If you don't shield me from the cold, I'll turn into an icicle and you'll have to perform your programmes without me… Hey, Yuuri, I'll post a picture of you, butt-naked, on Instagram." Eyes narrowing, he threw the covers off Yuuri and brought his hands to his face, forming them into a rectangle like he'd seen photographers do sometimes.

The lens captured Yuuri's shiver, locking on his face burying into the pillow in search of warmth. Yuuri was curled up in a ball just like he was earlier. At that angle, he could see the smoothness of his back, the pale skin married with purple bruises, the result of several failed attempts at practice. And muscles, protruding and strong, most likely soar and in need of a good massage.

Trailing lower, he could just make out the vertical cut of his abdominal muscles, drawing attention to a place hidden underneath a layer of cloth. He swallowed as he took everything in, mouth falling agape like he couldn't take in enough air through his nose alone. He could suddenly hear his own labored breathing as it mixed with his student's snores.

How could he still be asleep? If he didn't get up soon… "I'm going to violate you. Did you hear me, Yuuri? I'm going to do naughty… _awful_ things to you." He lowered his hands onto his lap, sitting back on his hind legs.

He forced himself to take a deep breath. "Oh Yuuri, what have you done to me? You make me want to love you and never let go. You inspire me. You make me happy and angry and all these _feelings_ that've been dulled for the last ten years. I want to be at your side, always, Yuuri." His throat hurt, like it was scratched raw. It wasn't like he was suddenly hit with all these emotions, but speaking them, vocalizing his thoughts in front of someone else, despite them not being awake to hear them, was something new.

He was a happy person; never had to hide his need for physical contact, his want for others to reach higher and achieve greater, his competitive spirit on and off the ice. He liked hanging out with friends, meeting new people, talking to strangers on the street. He never felt ostracized or unwanted. He was just being himself and that's why people liked him, because he didn't wear a mask, he wasn't two-faced.

But, perhaps they simply never bothered to look closer. Perhaps his mask was so tightly molded against his skin that no one could tell the difference.

It wasn't like he was concealing his true thoughts; he wasn't casting an invisible veil over the world, this wasn't a magic trick, but some things like _feelings_ and _emotions_ seemed too personal to share sometimes. Because when he _felt,_ it was so deeply, so crippling and intense that he swore he was swimming up a waterfall or lifting a boulder above his head. The weight was just too strong, pushing him down until he was exhausted, worn and weathered from the fight until he decided to just lock everything up and throw away the key. Because it was easier that way.

And Yuuri didn't break down his barriers and force him to feel again. He didn't ride in on a white steed, sword drawn, and hacked at the shield until it came crumbling down like some fairy tale prince. The only thing Yuuri did was need him and somewhere along the way of caring for his student, his icy walls had thawed all on their own.

"Yuuri…" he called, sounding almost desperate.

Yuuri didn't just change him; he changed and influenced everyone he came into contact with. He inspired all of their friends and rivals. He became a force to be reckoned with. He was so, so proud of his student…

By then, his body had become accustomed to the temperature of the room but that didn't stop him from lying down beside his student and pressing his forehead against his back. A finger began absentmindedly tracing random patterns on the smooth skin, outlining his shoulder blades once or twice, and drawing little cartoon pigs performing various activities like fishing for apples in a pond and walking on stilts. The childish illustrations made him smile.

It was comfortable like this, calming and warm. It put him at ease and he finally felt like he could sleep soundly again. His lips found soft skin, pressing against it in a feather-light kiss, eyes focusing on that spot as he pulled away. _Thank you,_ he whispered silently, and then swallowed, groaning because he still couldn't say those words out loud. His forehead once again rested against Yuuri's back and this time his student mumbled something in return that sounded suspiciously like, _you're welcome, Viktor_.

Viktor smiled, finally noticing the sun beginning to rise, beams of light entering through the window. Not for the first time, he wished his room had curtains. He sighed as he sat up, shrugging out of his shirt and somehow slipping it onto Yuuri without waking the man. The act was initially done to warm him up but Viktor wouldn't lie and say he didn't like seeing the man in his clothing, surrounded by his smell. It was primal instinct to shroud a loved one with your scent. It made Viktor wonder what kind of animal he was if Yuuri was a pig and Yurio was a kitten. A snow fox perhaps because he was used to the cold... or maybe a dog like Makkachin because every time Yuuri surprised him, he just wanted to pounce and knock him over.

He slid off the bed, spinning around and lifting the covers back up to his student's shoulders. He laughed as Yuuri followed him and reached out a hand. He caught three digits in a weak hold, eyes zeroing in on the gold band attached to his ring finger.

Viktor could feel the same band on his finger, suddenly made very aware of its weight. He stroked it as he gently lowered Yuuri's hand. He grabbed a new shirt, his jacket, scarf, shoes, phone, keys and wallet before leaving the room. He needed to clear his mind. His muddled thoughts couldn't interfere with Yuuri's performance.

* * *

 **A/N:** You guys wanna hear a story? So I was seriously pissed when I started getting email notifications for Yuri! on Ice in October. I was subscribed to hundreds of people and so many of them were publishing stories about something I wasn't into. It was like Attack on Titans all over again (still don't like that show, sorry supporters). But unlike Attack on Titans, Yuri notifications blew up and exploded my inbox. I couldn't filter them out and still receive notifications to the series I was into at the time.

Then came one day where I decided to watch the first episode. If it sucked, it sucked and I'd just have to start unsubscribing to people. *Watches the first five minutes* "Holy Mother OF FUUUUUCK. I LOVE THIS!" And luckily episode seven had come out that very same day and I got to witness that beautiful scene before watching it all over from the beginning. (I've currently re-watched the anime six times now). Moral of the story is: give things a chance before you outright dis them. (To tell you the truth, knowing me as well as I do, I probably won't heed this moral when the next big thing comes out… I get pissed off easily, you see, and hate conformity.)


End file.
